


all the words i should not know

by driedvoices



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-13
Updated: 2012-05-13
Packaged: 2017-11-05 08:04:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/404159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/driedvoices/pseuds/driedvoices
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ed and Winry are stupid, but they're stupid together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all the words i should not know

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Iki_teru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iki_teru/gifts).



Of all the stupid messes they get themselves into, this is pretty high on the list. 

Neither of them are much inclined to care, however, because Winry's body is slick and warm and Ed can't stop touching her _skin_ , running his hands over her arms, her clavicle, her hips. Winry doesn't let him stop kissing her, and it really is a matter of permission, because her mouth is firm and demanding (but her lips are so soft, _so_ soft) and Ed feels like he'd give up breathing if he could just keep touching, keep kissing, if he could slow everything down for a few minutes and pretend this was a constant instead of a respite. 

Ed's mouth tastes of something familiar and distinctly male and Winry loves the press of his body against hers while they kiss, the feel of his chest tightly over her breasts. She arches up a little, looking for more contact, and he groans. Winry lets out a nervous giggle against his lips and trails her fingers over his stomach, like she doesn't already know every part of him. This is different, though; this isn't surgical, professional, it's something she wants, that she almost needs. He stiffens when her fingers reach the automail scars, but she lowers her mouth and kisses the junction between metal and skin. Ed bites down on his lip and stares down at her, her mussed hair and her pale smooth shoulders and her eyes, wide and shining brightly. 

"Hi," he whispers, and threads a hand through her hair. 

"Hi," she agrees and wraps an arm around his waist. 

Ed's hands grip her hips tightly, one cool and hard, one warm and a little sweaty. Winry shivers a little when he slides them down to her thighs and leaves a trail of kisses down her stomach, tonguing over every freckle, every scar, every rib. He stops at her navel, resting his head on her stomach and running his fingers along the crevices of her hips. He glances back up at her shyly, and wets his lips to speak. "Okay?" he murmurs, and the feel of his breath against her skin is—oh. 

"Please," Winry rasps, and pushes her hips up. 

She can hear Ed's breathing, shallow and rushed and a little bit scared, but most of all she can _feel_ him, warm and cold at the same time, fingers rubbing against her, inside her, and she can't keep herself from crying out. The smooth metal of his hand traces little patterns along her hips, the insides of her thighs, before he guides them back over her, the air blowing cool against the wetness he dragged against her skin. She lets herself gasp at the feel of him, rubbing circles into her skin and pressing _into_ her. Her hips snap up, pushing back against his hand because it just doesn't feel like enough. 

"Shh," he quiets her, and strokes her hip. Winry exhales shakily, arching up and trying to relax into some semblance of a rhythm. Then she feels Ed breathing straight against her, and his mouth is _right there_ , sucking and licking and she makes a strangled noise in her throat, biting down hard on her lip to keep from screaming. Ed pushes her down firmly, and his mouth is so warm and wet and she's trying hard not to grind against him but sometimes she can't help it, and the way he's moaning against her tells her that he doesn't seem to mind. He pulls back a little, just edging over her with the tip of his tongue, enough to make her shiver. The warmth of his hand leaves her hip and she knows from the small tremors of his body exactly what he's doing. 

She feels herself breaking into a sweat, on her breasts, on the backs of her _knees_ , and she knows that she is so, so close. She swallows down a groan, scooting down, closer to the subsiding warmth, closer to _Ed_. 

"Please," she whispers, ragged and breathless. "I— _ah_ —I want, please, just. Edward. _Ed_."

He shudders and licks his way inside her thighs, sucking wetly and if Winry just arches up an inch more—he mouths over the place that makes her writhe and the muscles in her thighs tense erratically while she grabs at the sheets, riding it out against Ed's mouth, his hand.

Winry breathes out slowly, and sees Ed's eyes right across from hers. Her knees are still shaking. He twines his automail arm around her waist and pulls her tight. 

"Didn't know you'd put it to this kind of use," she says softly, trailing fingers up her creation, the product of sweat and effort; a labor of---

"You do good work," Ed shrugs, and kisses her forehead.


End file.
